Damn, how much longer was this flight supposed to be? At this point, Dean was getting antsy, eyes shifting around to the other passengers, but never lingering long enough for them to take notice. He inevitably found himself in the middle of the chopper, a fate which could have been remedied if only he had arrived earlier. Instead of a cushy corner position, Dean had people on both sides; people he didn’t know, and individuals that he held no care to speak to at the moment. Luckily, every other loner on the ride seemed to want to keep to themselves, a sentiment the Japanese native was happy to hold.

 Instead, his fingers fiddled upon the hilt of a blade that had seen action for around ten years. Yes, this sword had been there for Dean when he needed it most, and he relied on it like an old man would rely on a cane. Unfortunately, this was now happening in a literal sense, as the boy found himself undermining the importance of the weapon by leaning on it like some two-bit stick. A rather unprofessional move considering the company he was in. Although in the end, it’d be hard getting some of these people to hate you more than they despised the Americans, a hatred that was mutual considering all the shit that went down in Michigan. Dean could still feel the cold lifeless air of Summerlin, and it only served to send chills down his spine. 

It was still hard to believe that various representatives from around the world would be able to put aside their differences to work on UFO watching of all things. The idea was laughable at best and was sure to end in disaster, but the Sci-Fi nerd in him wanted to believe that there was a possibility for extraterrestrial contact, especially with the increased UFO sightings the world over. It didn’t help that Captain Hitam had urged Dean to take the position; otherwise he might be relaxing in a hotel somewhere while the unit waited for another job. An increase in pay won the day though, and now Dean found himself in the middle of a helicopter, surrounded by strangers.